Dear Mr. Fantasy

Steve Winwood

As the evening sun goes down

The Dealer shuffles into town

Makes a note of what's a float

And spinning 'round he'll cut your throat

In the time it takes to heal

The dealer's made another deal

When he plays he plays for keeps

And sweeps the spinning roulette wheel

Dealer, Dealer



Like the mighty ocean's roar

He gets all his share and more

Mexican right to the core and very proud

He'll get even with the score

Leave your wife a weeping widow on the shore



Between the desert and the dove

Money is his only love

Feeling nothing deep inside

His mind is governed by his pride

In a smoky little room

Shadows moving in the gloom

Someone turns a running flush

And breaks the deathly quiet hush

Dealer, Dealer